Metallic Thunder
by Gray-Rain Skies
Summary: AU. She could have loved him. [almost nonexistent SoraKairi]


Alternate Universe. SoraKairi. Blah.

**Disclaimer**: No.

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It was a backdrop of dull gray as she walked the sidewalk in-between the impatient, jerking chaos of cars to her left and the rushed traversing of nameless faces to her right. Blue eyes flicked to the glint of buildings as they scanned farther and farther up towards the sky; the sun soon overtook her sight, though, and she winced as the glare became too much for her vision, swinging her gaze lower to the busy stores pleading their products to the world as she walked on by without a second thought. There was laughter here, shouting there, and the clashing sea of everyday chatter that melded into a hum in front of her, behind her, and all around her, and it felt as if only she was silent and stone-faced in the binding flow of human travel on the concrete walkway.

Tilting her head in indifference, she let her eyes wander as she brushed her hands through her red locks. Across the collision course of cars revving and roaring in the street as each driver impatiently tried to get on their way, she let her eyes fall on kids her age. There was blonde and kind of cute, with laughing brunette on his arm as she leaned against his shoulder, a skip in her step; and there was red hair and kind of older-looking, hands linked behind his head as he grinned easily and chatted along with them. They looked happy, which contrasted too colorfully from the gray and bland of city boredom.

Sighing, she shook her head, strands pulling through her fingers and tangling, as well as dropping into her eyes. The corner of her lip twitching in frustration, she untangled her fingers from her hair strands as she quickly raked them through the mass of red, picking up her pace which had lagged somewhat.

Her shoulder struck someone's, but they didn't give an apology, so neither did she.

Warm breeze, gentle sunshine, and yet all looked gray as she walked the street that kept her rooted to reality. There was nothing new, nothing different, nothing exciting, and nothing that mattered, because life did no flips and somersaults that suddenly landed her in a better place. It was not a romance novel, it was not a horror story, it was not an on-the-edge-of-your-seat-watch-out-for-it thriller. Life was a sea of faceless people that neither knew her nor cared about her, was blisters on her feet because her new shoes were a pain, and was a bruised lip because in her anxiety over some project she'd poured herself into she'd bitten the flesh too hard.

The sky was not raining rose petals; after all, the sky was raining nothing at all.

Making a derogatory sound as she rolled her eyes and flicked her attention ahead, she saw him just a second before he walked into her, and then she was stumbling over herself in those painful heels as he apologized (how different, because he _actually _had courtesy) and stumbled to catch her elbow. Wincing, she bent one knee and reached down with her hand, hair spilling from over her shoulders to hang in front of her face as her fingers felt at her foot, which was so, so painful and she was throwing those shoes away, she knew it.

Her body stiffened in her collective musings as she realized he was still holding her elbow.

Straightening slowly, she pulled her arm back as she flicked bored blue eyes to search out this mystery person. Immediately her dark-colored orbs clashed with the bluest eyes she'd yet seen, and she covered her mouth and coughed to cover her shock. He was, well, gorgeous; especially with that smile.

He laughed and rubbed his neck with his right hand, jacket hanging loosely on his hand. No introduction, no "Hey baby, what's your sign?" kind of _crap _most guys wasted her time with, and no offer to get together sometime. No, brown hair and blue eyes and sweet smile just apologized and wished her well, giving her a wave as he started off.

She gave the stranger a smile, though, (something she didn't do too often anymore), to which he hesitated at, face flushed. But then he just grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets, disappearing into the crowd, nameless like everyone else.

He could've been someone. With that smile and passing, he could've been her _everything_. But he wasn't, and she was alone, as she'd been forever.

Sighing, she still felt that smile on her lips. And she liked the feeling. It was…nice.

Nice things, however, never seem to last.

As she turned to go, shoes digging sharply into her heels, there was a shout and a chorus of screams and a shot. Her head jerked to the left and she stood standing in disbelief, instincts screaming at her to cover her head, to duck down, to _run _even. But no, instead she watched – through the stream of faceless nobodies running her way and around her – a body fall to the ground, brown bangs overshadowing his eyes as a man crouched down and lifted his wallet. And then disappeared.

And, stupid as it was, she was running _towards _him, not believing that a man could be so heartless as to shoot a person in broad daylight. Maybe he was stoned, or drunk, or just insane, but whatever his story she couldn't believe it, didn't _want _to believe it; not as brown hair and bright smile and courtesy and kindness lay bleeding color onto the concrete, chest not moving, lungs not breathing, heart not beating.

Maybe she had tears in her eyes as she stood over his dead body, she didn't know. But as she crouched down in those heels that pained her feet and brushed her hand across his forehead, she couldn't help but feel that the world had lost something.

He could've been her someone, he might've been _someone she could love_, but he'd been shot at the random and she'd watched him die.

And instead of her life filling with color at the realization that she'd witnessed someone's death, the color, the sound, and the feeling all seemed to fade so far away.

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Honestly, I only thought of this because I was lying in bed last night going, "I want to write something everyday that nobody focuses on." Unfortunately, though, this idea has probably already done and it's not really something that happens everyday. So, haha, it's just a random fic that's _hardly _even able to be called a Kaiora. Ah well.

Please review, and tell me if it's shit and thus why it is so. -insert smiley face here-


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